Till The End of the Line
by avengettes.assemble
Summary: This is basically just a collection of the floofiest stuff I can write with fem!Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Don't judge me, I'm kind of obsessed with this thing right now.
1. His Porcelain Doll

(Author's Note: Here's a special treat! Some floof! Kudos to Toni for helping me out on this one, she made this thing a helluva lot better than I wrote it initially. Also, don't ask me why I wrote this, I just wanted to… There may be more in the future.)

Bucky Barnes had a problem. A girl problem. Not that he had problems picking up gals, just the opposite. Girls swarmed to him like flies around sweets. Always clinging to his arm or coming up to him to start a rousing discussion about nothing in particular. They were nice, and definitely cute enough for Bucky's taste, but they weren't his problem.

Stevie Grace Rogers was.

His best friend, his best gal, the best person in his world, _she_ was his problem. It had nothing to do with her asthma, frequent colds, fatigue, heart troubles, probable diabetes, high blood pressure… along with all her other medical issues. Those he could handle.

But she…

As scrawny as his little porcelain doll was, she was always getting herself into trouble. Bucky worried everyday that someone would shatter her, and he'd be left to pick up the broken pieces he had failed to protect. He would do everything in his power to stop that day from coming. He couldn't, wouldn't, let her shatter.

Stevie was perfect in his eyes. There was nothing wrong with her. Graceful, he'd always joke to her. She would never back down from a fight. No matter who she would go up against, she was always ready to put them in their place. She never let anyone down, not her friends, not her family, not some helpless man on the street. She didn't know when to quit. Even though she was such a frail woman, she would fight for what she thought was right until she couldn't anymore. For such a pretty gal, she made some pretty dumb decisions. And, she _was_ beautiful... Her golden brown hair caught the sunlight, glinting like the treasures of Midas as she walked.

He walked over to her apartment one summer day. It was 1940. Stevie's mother had passed away a few months ago. Bucky had been worried for Stevie ever since it happened. Sarah Rogers went quickly, it almost happened overnight. Stevie was devastated. He hadn't seen her since the day of the funeral.

Bucky had gone down to the church where Stevie had been part of the choir earlier that day. None of the gals she sang with had seen her in weeks. Like him, they hadn't even seen her in church since the funeral. They were worried about her, too. He promised the gals that he'd check on Stevie.

Bucky approached Stevie's door, biting his bottom lip nervously. He wondered if he should just walk in. He knew where she hid her spare key, anyhow, it wouldn't exactly have been difficult. But, he wanted to be polite. He gently tapped his knuckles against the wood, clearing his throat.

"Hey, kid?" he called. "You alright…? It's Buck. You in?" Silence. "Stevie, please, are you in there?" Silence. "I'm coming in, doll." He walked over to the brick and kicked it aside, picking up the spare key from underneath it. He went back to the door and unlocked it, opening it. What he encountered inside was a nightmare.

"Christ, Stevie!" he ran up to her. Stevie was lying in a crumpled heap in the middle of her apartment's main room. Sympathy cards, newspapers, and drawings of her mother all lay scattered beneath her. Her small form shook, her golden locks laid listlessly on her face. A small puddle of bile was pooling beside her, a thin trail starting from her lips. Her eyes were closed, her hands loosely clenched into fists. Bucky could tell, even from where he stood, that she'd lost weight, weight she really couldn't afford to lose.

He knelt down next to her, scooping her up in his arms. Jesus, she was ice cold, and he could've sworn that he could feel her brittle bones breaking from his touch. "Stevie, Stevie, please, look at me, doll, are you alright?"

Stevie mumbled something under her breath, the words indiscernible as they fell from her mouth. Bucky felt his heart race. Something was wrong, really, _really_ wrong with Stevie. Something he couldn't identify, and worse, something he couldn't fix. He had to get her to a hospital, fast.

…

Two days went by before Stevie opened her eyes. She had a dreadful taste in her mouth. Everything hurt. Her heart, especially. There was a tightness in her chest that wouldn't go away, and she feared it wouldn't any time soon.

When she looked around, she frowned. She wasn't in her apartment. She was in a hospital. She panicked. She didn't have the money for a hospital stay. The door was ajar. Thoughts of simply leaving flooded her mind. She could hear the sounds of nurses and family members walking through the hallway. She wouldn't make two steps out the door. There was a small window just to her right. Beams of light shone through the see through curtains, bathing the room in a soft yellow glow. It was nearing sunset. A thin blanket covered the lower half of her body. While she looked around, her eyes rested on a familiar sight, fast asleep in a chair next to her bed.

"Bucky?" she said, surprising herself at the weakness of her voice. His form shuffled a bit, but he didn't wake up. For a few moments, she let him sleep. She let him be free of the confines of her hospital room, the room he probably brought her to. He must've stayed with her the entire time, against any protests of the hospital staff. She knew how he was. She spoke his name again. She saw his eyes open.

Bucky perked up, looking at her like he'd just found her after a journey across the ocean. His face looked drawn, stubble coating his chin and cheeks. He reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Stevie," he said, his voice sounding soft, like a breeze after a storm. "Doll, you scared the hell outta me. How are ya feeling?"

"Fine, I-." she looked at him. "Did… Did you take me here…?"

"Of course I did," Bucky said. "Stevie, I've never seen you so bad. When I found you-." he paused, his breath catching in his throat. "The docs said you're 77 pounds. Stevie, you're malnourished and they think you might have the flu."

"I…" Stevie began. "I'm sorry."

"Why on Earth are you sorry?" Bucky asked her. "Stevie, you're sick, and you're in grief. There's no reason you should apologize."

"I made you worry," she said.

"Look, kid, don't worry about that right now, okay?" he said. "Focus on getting you better, and making sure you're okay. I… I don't want anything to happen to you." He looked down at his lap, and Stevie could see that he was shaking. "You… haven't been eating, have you?" Stevie looked at him with wide eyes, but shook her head. "Dammit, Stevie, no wonder you got so sick…"

Stevie looked away from Bucky. She hated when he got angry with her. It was understandable, though, she knew. She was constantly reminded by him how stupid some of the choices she made were, from getting into fist fights, to going out without a jacket when one of the church girls didn't have her own and she offered hers. That selfless charm of hers was cute, but not when it ended up with her needing medical attention.

"Sorry…" she said quietly once more. She heard Bucky sigh. She looked back, seeing him run a hand through his dark hair. He looked at her with a small, but seemingly forced, smile. He gave her hand a small squeeze.

"It's fine, Stevie." he said. "It's just that when we promised we'd be there for each other till the end of the line, I didn't expect the end to come up so quick. And I don't want it to ever happen again, ya hear?" Stevie felt tears rise to her eyes.

"Was…" she swallowed, feeling her throat constrict with dryness. "Was it really that bad…?" Bucky looked at her, and, for a horrible moment, Stevie saw what might've been tears in her best friend's eyes. Her heart broke.

"I… wasn't sure if you were going to make it, Stevie…" he said through a small breath, looking down. "You were cold. You were shaking, you just… You wouldn't open your eyes. No matter what I did, you just kept them closed and you didn't wake up." he looked up at her. "For days I've been terrified at the thought of attending your funeral next."

Stevie felt tears of her own reach her eyes, steadily flowing down her cheeks. She gave Bucky's hand a quick squeeze. "Buck…" she said quietly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I scared you like that… I-It… It won't happen again."

"But, it will," Bucky said softly. Stevie looked at him, confused. "It will. You don't take care of yourself. You always throw yourself into danger, you neglect your health, you don't care about yourself. You really don't. And that kills me, Stevie." Stevie felt guilty. She wanted to look away, but seeing the tears in her friend's eyes made her become fixated on him, watching as a tear moved slowly down his cheek. That little trail it made split her heart in two.

"I-." she bit her lip. She couldn't say she was sorry. Being sorry implied that she wouldn't do it again and she couldn't promise him that. She took a shaky breath. "I'll try to be more careful when I get out of here."

"I don't want you to try," Bucky said. "I just want you to do it, Stevie. I don't want to find you dead in an alleyway somewhere after you fight someone, and I… I never want to find you like that again…"

Stevie squeezed Bucky's hand, and smiled ever so slightly. Bucky looked at her, not wiping the tear off of his face. "Bucky," she said quietly. "I'm with you till the end of the line. And the end of the line isn't coming any time soon."

Bucky smiled a little. "You'd better keep that promise, Rogers," he said.

"I don't break promises, Buck." Stevie said, yawning. "Not planning on starting now." Bucky rubbed the top of Stevie's hand with his thumb, watching her eyelids flutter as she struggled to keep her eyes open. He didn't blame her, she was probably exhausted.

He watched as her breathing slowed, her chest rising and falling steadily. He felt himself relax knowing that she was awake. He looked at the clock. It was late. He'd have to leave eventually. The nurses had been kind enough to let him stay with her until she woke up, but he figured it was time he got some rest. He promised himself he'd be back in the morning.

"I'll be back, doll," he said softly, not wanting to wake her. She didn't stir. He bit his bottom lip, gazing at her soft features. His attention turned to her lips, thin and frail, just like the rest of her. Thin and frail and perfect. Bucky couldn't stop himself.

He leaned down towards her, pressing a gentle kiss against her lips. The gesture was petal-soft, and Stevie didn't react at all… Aside from a smile. Bucky smiled as well, brushing Stevie's hair away from her face, looking at her. She was his little doll, and he hoped that he'd eventually have the courage to kiss her when she was awake.


	2. On Your Left

(Author's Note: Hey, more floof! This is a sort of apology for putting chapter 8 of the First Avenger up so late. This won't be a regular thing, having this be apologetic uploads, but, until I finish the First Avenger, this is how I'll do it. Anywho, as you can probably guess, these little floofy chapters are being put up as sort of a scattered thing, so, this will not be a continuation of the first one I put up. Instead, this is a more cutesy one. Enjoy!)

"But, ma," Stevie pouted, sitting in a chair as her mother, Sarah Rogers, ran a brush through her hair. "I don't wanna go. Everyone will make fun of me." She wiped her nose with her small hand, looking at the ground.

"Nonsense," her mother said. "You're such a sweet girl, Stevie. You'll make friends in no time, don't worry for a second, okay?"

"You don't know that," Stevie whined through a sniffle.

"I don't," her mother agreed. "But I believe in you, little one. I know you'll be a great student and an even better friend. Now come on, we don't want you to be late."

Stevie looked at herself in the mirror. Her golden brown hair bobbed around her head, going a bit above her shoulders. Her mother had put her in a blue and white calico patterned dress and bright red shoes. She thought she looked like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz… She didn't like Dorothy. She liked the Cowardly Lion better.

Despite her protests, however, her mother refused to give her an outfit to look like the wild cat. Instead, she was stuck, as she usually was, as the lost little girl, too weak to take care of herself…

Stevie looked up at the school ahead of her. It was intimidating, that was for sure. She was small, much smaller than the other kids that ran into the school. Boys pushed and shoved each other while the girls all clumped together, leaving Stevie standing alone in front of the door. She looked back at her mother, who was dressed for work as a nurse. She ushered her forward. Stevie took a deep breath and walked in.

Stevie was placed next to a bigger boy in class. His name was James. Stevie thought he had real pretty blue eyes. She pulled out her paper and pencil, eager to learn. James, on the other hand, didn't take any materials out. He just leaned back in his seat, yawning.

Class went by quickly. Stevie tried to keep up with the teacher as she took notes. She stuck her tongue out in concentration, trying her best to write legibly. The bell rang for lunch and all of the kids got up quickly. Stevie made her way outside as well, being pushed around by the other kids. James ran off with all the other boys to play ball. Stevie was, again, left by herself.

She held her paper bag as she sat against a wall. All the other girls had tightened their circles when she had approached. Being so sick as a kid, Stevie didn't have a lot of time to socialize with the local kids her age. She hadn't gotten the chance to make friends. So, she sat alone, timidly nibbling at her sandwich.

There was a chorus of laughs coming from the boys. Stevie perked up, wondering what was happening. One of the smaller boys was on the ground, holding his head as a few of the other guys hit him with sticks or their feet. Stevie dropped her sandwich and ran over.

Her mother was a nurse. The instinct to help others had been ingrained in her since she could walk. Sarah Rogers would often tell the women at church that her little Stevie protected anything from rabbits to ladybugs. So, when Stevie saw the boy getting bullied, her nature gave her almost no choice but to help.

"Hey!" she shouted, her small voice surprisingly carried all the way through the boys' jeering. James was standing off to the side and raised his eyebrow at the small girl about to get herself into trouble. "You all leave 'im alone!"

One of the boys turned to her. "Get outta here," he said. "'s none of your business anyways!" he was about to turn back around when Stevie picked up a small rock and threw it at him. It hit him in the shoulder.

"I said, leave him alone!" Stevie shouted again. The boys all turned to her, the one getting beaten up running off, most likely to tell the teacher. One of the boys, the one Stevie had thrown a stone at walked up to her.

"Then we'll beat you up!" he said, hitting her in the face. She went down without a fight. She felt her head swim and she could've sworn she saw stars. She could faintly hear more jeers but, that was quickly followed by shouts of anger and the sounds of pushing. After a few moments, the crowd around her dissipated, leaving only one person behind.

"You okay?" she saw blue eyes, and quickly made the connection.

"James?" she asked quietly. He nodded, kneeling down beside her. He looked at her, pouting. "Am I okay?" Stevie looked at him worriedly. James looked her in the eyes.

"You gots an owie," he said simply. The teacher ran over, and immediately began fussing over Stevie. She got a scared look in her eyes, and James saw. He didn't like it when girls looked scared. He reached a hand out to her. Stevie saw the gesture, and grabbed his hand quickly. She started to cry at the pain on her cheek.

James felt bad for the little girl that the teacher was holding. She was just trying to help the guy the others were picking on. He hadn't exactly been participating in the bullying but, he didn't stop it either. He wanted to, but it was instead this girl that stepped in to help.

The teacher asked her if she wanted to go home. Stevie nodded frantically, but said she was scared to go home alone. James perked up. He told the teacher that he and Stevie lived in the same apartment building. Stevie looked over at him, but didn't say anything.

"You get her home to her mama," the teacher told James. "She'll know what to do." James nodded and looked at Stevie, still holding her hand. Stevie nodded, wiping her nose with her free hand, getting rid of some snot. They went back into the school, grabbing their bags before they went out on the streets.

"Why'd you wanna fight them?" James asked her after a while. Stevie looked up from the sidewalk, her hand still tightly holding onto his.

"What?" she asked. "I can't hear outta this ear." she pointed to her right ear with a pout. James leaned over to say ask his question into her left ear. She pondered it for a while and then said. "Well, I don't like bullies. So, when I saw the boys hitting that other boy, I wanted to stop 'em. Be a hero, like in storybooks."

"That's silly," James said after leaning back.

"What?" Stevie prompted.

"Nothing," James said louder so he wouldn't have to lean over. He walked along the sidewalks. He knew these streets well. He'd always been good at memorizing where places were. He would try to talk with Stevie but, would have to yell or lean over for her to hear him.

"This is annoying," he said. He let go of her hand. Stevie stopped dead in her tracks, frightened for a moment before James walked around to her left side. "This ear works right, right?" Stevie nodded. He smiled and grabbed her left hand. "Then I'll be on your left. That way you can hear me."

Stevie smiled up at him. "Thanks, James," she said.

"No one calls me James," he said. "Outside of my ma, I mean. My name's James Buchanan Barnes. Most of my friends call me Bucky." he looked at her, as if sizing her up. "I guess you can call me that, too."

Stevie blinked. "Does that mean I'm your friend?" she asked him in a small voice. Bucky looked her and smiled, giving her a nod. "Y-... You're my first friend."

"Shoot, kid, really?" Bucky asked. "Why don't you have any friends? You seem nice." Stevie shrugged.

"I'm always real sick," she said. "I don't get to go outside a lot."

"That stinks," Bucky said softly. "Sounds like you need a knight! A knight in shinin' armor to save you from all those gross colds and stuff. You could be a princess!" Stevie felt her cheeks burn. "What's your name again? I wasn't paying attention this morning." he blushed a bit in embarrassment when Stevie laughed. "Gimme a break, I was sleepy, okay?"

"My name's Stevie." she said. "Stevie Grace Rogers." Bucky smiled and stopped them from walking. Stevie raised her eyebrow. He grabbed her hand and knelt in front of her.

"Well, Princess Stevie," he said. "I'm gonna be your knight. Sound alright?"

Stevie laughed and covered her mouth with her free hand. "Alright, Bucky," she said. "But you gotta promise me two things."

"Sure," Bucky said, getting to his feet once again.

"Number one," Stevie said, holding up a finger. "You've gots to always be my best friend." Bucky nodded, crossing his heart. "And two," she put up another finger. "You've always gotta be on my left. So I can hear you."

"I promise," Bucky said. Stevie smiled and gave him a hug. "Now, come on, Stevie," he said. "Let's get you home."

(Author's Note: I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I hope you all enjoy this one!)


End file.
